


Better

by DameRuth



Series: Flowers [6]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alien Biology, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:13:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24688936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameRuth/pseuds/DameRuth
Summary: Sometimes love isn't enough,  or is it?  Rose and Ten share what intimacy they can in the Flowers!verse.[Continuing the Teaspoon imports, originally posted 2009.10.19.]
Relationships: Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Flowers [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/14017
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Better

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the reason I've been so damn slow to get back to posting more chapters of "Untouched By Frost" is that, just as I'm about to write more on that story, the characters tell me about some other piece of backstory, or some incredibly important connection I've missed, or something else that changes my perception of the greater "story" of the Flowers!verse -- and, in turn, what I should be putting into "Frost."

  
  
_"Jack!" Rose cried, running into his arms and hugging him with all her strength. "I dreamed something awful happened and you were gone . . ."  
  
The low rumble of his laugh echoed reassuringly in the ear she pressed to his warm, broad chest. "I'll never leave you, sweetheart, you know that. It was just a dream." He rocked her a little from side to side and she let herself melt against him, awash in glowing relief.  
  
He held her a moment longer, and then, slowly and deliciously, began to show her exactly how "all right" everything was._  
  
Rose woke with an abrupt jerk of limbs, followed by confusion and then by the familiar, horrible moment of returning knowledge. _This_ was reality, _that_ was the dream, and she knew which one was closer to a nightmare sometimes.  
  
To make matters worse, the memory-dream of her lost lover had left her uncomfortably aroused, a dull, hot-coal ache in her lower abdomen that only seemed to intensify as she willed it away. She should get up, slip into the bathroom, and take care of it . . .  
  
Next to her, the Doctor was still asleep, breath buzzing faintly in the odd, split-toned snore he'd developed since his regeneration. Dead to the world — when he slept, he slept with conviction. Would he be more likely to notice Rose leaving the bed, or her dealing with her needs where she lay? She thought she could stay relatively still and quiet; she'd been getting a lot of practice in self-gratification these days, after losing first Jack and then Mickey. Once she and the Doctor had returned alone from the parallel Universe — and Rose had finished crying her eyes out — she'd finally wrung a promise out of the Doctor to quit throwing human boyfriends in her direction. It was to be just the two of them, from now on.  
  
Which meant Rose was on her own as far as some things were concerned. It only took about a month or so for her to begin truly resenting her biology and its needs, but she'd gritted her teeth and done her best to look after herself in private moments. It was the price she'd chosen to pay, she reminded herself, and it wasn't the Doctor's problem. She also didn't fancy admitting to any difficulties, seeing as she'd been the one so adamant on the matter.  
  
She had to do _something_ ; if she didn't, she was either going to explode or, if she began really thinking about her dream, start crying — and that _would_ wake her bedmate, she knew. He seemed to be uncannily tuned into some of her moods, especially sorrow, and she didn't want to put that burden on him.  
  
That decided her. Moving stealthily, she slipped one hand down her torso to where she needed it and let her mind drift, back to particular parts of her dream and to memories that seemed a century past. Her concentration was so deep it took the Doctor shifting position next to her to break her out of it.  
  
Suddenly aware again of the world outside her body, Rose froze, praying he was just rolling over.  
  
"Rose?" he asked in a low undertone. It was too dark to see his face, but she knew he was looking at her.  
  
She squeezed her eyes closed, embarrassed and frustrated. Still, attempting to dissemble would probably be useless and even more embarrassing in the end. "Sorry. Hope I didn't wake you," she said.  
  
"No. I was due to be waking up anyway," the Doctor replied, voice still middle-of-the-night quiet, even though it was just the two of them in the bed, nobody else ( _Jack_ ) to risk disturbing.  
  
Rose sighed through her nose. "Well, that's one good thing, then," she said.  
  
The Doctor didn't respond directly. Instead, he slid closer to her, body fitting neatly against hers, no wasted spaces in between, his arms going around her with effortless ease. He brushed a light kiss against her hair, reassuring, and Rose felt less embarrassed. At least he wasn't repelled — not that human sex had ever seemed to bother him. It just wasn't something he could partake in.  
  
Which was why she didn't register what was happening as one of his cool, slender hands shifted, moving down the length of her body until it was beside hers and the nature of his touch was completely undeniable.  
  
It was shocking, wrong, _unnatural_ in a way she felt down to the marrow of her bones; her instinctive reaction was a violent flinch.  
  
The Doctor's hand stilled immediately and withdrew. He didn't move otherwise, but Rose could sense that his embrace had become tense and wary, ready to pull back in an instant.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, with such desperate anguish she couldn't begin to guess what he was apologizing for. For Jack? For Mickey? For the feelings between a human girl and a Time Lord that shut out even other members of her own species? For him thinking to try and help her? Or for trying to make that thought reality, wrong as it might be for both of them? In the end, she only had one answer, to any of it.  
  
"S'okay," she whispered back, shifting to cuddle closer to him, turning her head to press an awkward, chaste kiss against his arm, the only part of him she could easily reach. "It doesn't matter."  
  
He exhaled, and hugged her closer for a moment. Then he asked, "Do you still need to . . . um . . ."  
  
Rose managed a tiny snort of amusement. "I'll be in a much better mood tomorrow if I do," she admitted.  
  
"Well, then," the Doctor said into her hair, sounding as if he were starting to smile, letting the words trail off into invitation and permission.  
  
Somewhat self-consciously, Rose began to pick up where she'd left off, reminding herself that the Doctor had seen her in far more compromising positions with Jack. There was precious little he didn't know about her body by this point. His arms around her might not represent sex or warmth, but they were safety and companionship and the one thing neither of them dared to name aloud.  
  
Rose let herself relax into his embrace, and, sooner than she'd expected, found the ease she'd been seeking. With a last sigh, she went limp. The Doctor gave her a congratulatory squeeze and a small kiss on her cheek.  
  
"Better?" he whispered, his tone warm even though his lips were cold.  
  
"Better," Rose agreed, decisively.  
  
"Good."  
  
With her body's tension spent, Rose found herself overwhelmed with fatigue. She shifted into a more comfortable position, the Doctor moving to accommodate her, human and alien in easy harmony. His lower body temperature absorbed the warmth of her flushed skin, leaving her cool and comfortable. _I made the right choice,_ she thought, _even if it isn't the easy one._  
  
She fell asleep to the soothing double beat of two hearts, breathing in the honey-scent of the Doctor's skin, and if she dreamed again she didn't remember it.  
  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=33564>


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